Tuesday, March 14, 2017

I'm All About Purple...Unless You're Not

Should I - a middle-aged single mom who is already fairly goofy looking and even more fairly insecure about her looks - put a purple streak in my hair?

I love purple. My glasses are purple. My phone case is purple. Many of my favorite items of clothing are purple. My car, Benedict Cumberhatch, would be purple if he were offered in that color. My bedspread is purple, my shower curtain is purple, and I'm currently wearing a purple bra.

And as far as almost everyone reading thisknows, my boobs look just like these.

My point is -

Guys, stop looking at the breasts. Focus.

My point is, I'm 48 years old. I've pretty much reached a place where I can treat my physical presence as some kind of cosmic joke, to which I can provide whatever avant garde, baroque punchline I please. In other words, nobody can convince me that I'm one iota more or less attractive than I believe I am. Because I just don't care how you think I look, as long as I'm OK with how I think I look.

Can you dig it?

I legit find her so beautiful.

So if I get a notion to put a purple streak in my standard fluffy chin-length mom-bob, whose business is it, really, but my own?

Other than everyone who has to look at me.

But do I give a flip, as long as I can look at myself and think, "That is a BITCHING purple streak. Yaaasss, queen"?

I think that's how the kids talk. But I don't really care.

Because bein' purple, like bein' green, is beautiful.

Anyway. There is a bottle of purple hair dye on my bathroom vanity. And it would take me only a few minutes to introduce a righteous streak of purple into my standard suburban-mom hairstyle.

As usual I like the way Bill thinks. If it's just a streak people might think it's an accident. Go all in.Although the streak also has a certain "I don't care if people think it was just an accident" quality to it.

Do it. I was fully prepared to take out the stud in my nose ( when I had one) while facing customer. Turns out nobody gives a damn. We have a woman in our office whose hair has been a rainbow of colors. The good old boys that run the place don't care. Do it.

A year ago, I told the woman who cuts my hair that I wanted a crew cut. I promised myself that when I no longer worked at the extremely conservative place I used to work, I'd get a crew cut. (They fired me.) She wouldn't go as short as I wanted so the next time My husband did it with the dog shears.

Saved me a shitload of money. I love it, and he's cut it twice since.

I only have to look at it once a day when I'm brushing my teeth; the rest of the day it's everybody else's problem.